


Evening Effulgence

by panaceaa



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Craig just wants to do his job and go home, M/M, Romance, Stan and Craig are cops, Stan wants someone to talk to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14092512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaceaa/pseuds/panaceaa
Summary: Stan meets and is instantly enamored by the beautiful and elusive Butters. Craig, meanwhile, does not get paid enough to deal with this shit.





	Evening Effulgence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Townycod13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Morning Monotony Madness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14032359) by [Townycod13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13). 



> Heya! This here is a companion piece to Townycod13’s wonderful oneshot Morning Monotony Madness! Her fic doesn’t necessarily need to be read first for this to be understood since they focus on different characters, but it’s a quick and amazing read so I don’t know why you wouldn’t??? Please go read her stuff!!!

It was raining.

Stan sat on the park bench under the canopy of leaves belonging to the large tree to his right. He’d had work earlier, but had gone home and changed out of his uniform planning to go see a movie or something. He never quite made it there, not that he had felt like it anyway. Most of the movies out were shit, just like the rain, as well as pretty much everything else in the world.

“Heya.” Stan was interrupted from his thoughts by some bond dude who was dripping from the rain. “Do ya mind if I sat here for a minute?”

Stan shook his head. The blond smiled at him before throwing his bag down on the bench seat and sitting down beside him.

“I’ve been doin’ a bunch of walkin’ around today,” the blond began without preamble, swinging his legs back and forth since they didn’t quite reach the ground. “Errands and all that. I usually like to rest at this bench here cause’ its got a real nice view of the lake.”

Stan gave him an odd look. “Dude, you’ve decided to do errands when it’s raining like this?”

“Well I always did love the rain,” he laughed with a small shrug. “It makes everything sparkle, and shine.”

Stan inspected the rain, watching as it fell and settled into dark puddles on the pavement. His brow creased in confusion, “I don’t see it.”

The man just laughed, again. “It’s alright, not a lot of people do.”

Seeing the world as incredibly shitty had never been a life choice for Stan. He never wanted to be miserable, he really wished he could see the world as this guy did.

He just couldn’t.

“I kind of wish I could,” he admitted.

The blond looked over at him with a sad yet thoughtful tilt to his gaze, before it quickly brightened once more. “Well, maybe I can help ya.”

With a shake of his head, Stan laughed, the sound holding no humor. “I don’t really see that happening.”

“Now hold on just a second mister,” the blond said, pointing a finger at him as if giving a lecture, “ya didn’t even give me time to try.”

Stan gave him an amused look. “Alright, dude. Then go right ahead and try.”

The blond nodded, satisfied. He looked around until something seemed to catch his eye and his expression lit up in a way that Stan wouldn’t have even thought possible. Then he stood, walked over and picked something up off the ground. When he turned around and came back Stan arched his eyebrow at what was held within his hands.

“A flower?”

“Yeah, but ya just gotta look a little bit closer.”

Stan leaned forward and inspected it, feeling like an idiot but not really caring at the moment. He took in everything he could, before shaking his head. “Sorry dude, it just looks like a stupid flower. Maybe I’m just broken or something.”

“Now don’t you dare talk like that. You just need a little help is all,” he made a little gesturing motion with his hand from Stan to the flower, and although he was skeptical, Stan obeyed and once again looked at the stupid pink plant. “Alright, now look at the little drops of water. You know each and every one of them fell from its own little spot in the sky, high up in the clouds. Well, each of those little guys fell all that distance, just as they’re fallin now. And sure some fall into the lakes and the big puddles, but then there are some like these that stick onto this flower here, each one somehow holding its perfect little shape and forming its own little orb of pink as if tryin’ to copy the flower’s color. It’s kinda beautiful, don’tcha think?”

Stan looked up from the flower and the blond was smiling again. Eyes sparkling like the sun shining down on two individual oceans.

The purest blue he’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” Stan smiled, “really beautiful.”

The man seemed overjoyed, and his sudden happiness at something so simple gave Stan a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, while also simultaneously made him want to vomit. It was the most he’d actually felt in years.

The blond seemed like he was about to say something else when something like alarm crossed the man’s expression. “Oh hamburgers, I got distracted and now I’m gonna be late and get in trouble again,” he quickly gathered his bag and hurried to leave, turning to Stan with one last smile and a wave, “I gotta go, but it was real nice meeting you!”

People like this only showed up once in a lifetime.

“Hey, wait!” Stan called out to him, and the boy stopped and turned back towards him. “I’ll be here tomorrow...same time?” He said phrasing the last of his statement in the form of a question, hopefully making his intention clear without having to actually spell it out.

The blond smiled, understanding. His hair sparkled with rainwater, bright as if he were his own miniature sun.

“I’ll be lookin’ forward to it.”

***

Craig liked his job, really he did. Being a police officer had always been in his nature, at least that’s what Tweek always told him. Yet, there were times like these when he really hated his job.

He and Stan were in the car driving to the location of the latest lead on the massive smuggling ring that they, as well as a large portion of the rest of the force, had been trying to bust for months. Unfortunately, that meant Craig was stuck in the car with him with zero chance of escape.

“He just has this way of looking at the world,” Stan continued, not stopping, “like I don’t know dude. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can’t stop thinking about him. The next time I see him, I think that I’m going to ask him out.”

“Okay,” Craig said blankly, “so what’s his name?”

“...What?”

Craig turned his head to stare at him. “You’re telling me you just made me listen to you go on about some asshole for half an hour, and you don’t even know his name.”

“I had other things on my mind, dude,” Stan defended. “I mean, imagine if it had been Tweek.”

Craig flipped him off. “Every time you meet someone you compare them to me and Tweek.”

“Well, you two were like soulmates since you were five or something.”

“Yeah,” Craig said with a roll of his eyes. “Which is why I knew his name before we started dating.”

“Okay...but let’s say you _hadn’t_.”

Craig quietly cursed his entire existence. “I really don’t know why I bother.”

***

It was a beautiful day out, the sun sinking deep into the ground with the sunset, casting the sky in a deep orange hue. Stan was watching the way the colors reflected onto the surface of the lake from his spot on the bench when the blond appeared in his field of vision. He offered Stan a wave, and Stan’s breath caught at the sight of his eyes that were lit up like the stars and his smile that could have quelled the fighting of a hundred countries.

“Heya, um…” The blond suddenly looked puzzled, a frustrated crease to his brow as he tried to recall a name he’d never been given.

“Stan.”

“Stan,” He echoed with a smile, and Stan’s heart picked up the pace at the sound of his name from his lips.

“Say, I um,” Stan started somewhat awkwardly, “I never got your name.”

“Oh, golly, I guess I forgot. I’m Butters.”

Stan looked at him for a moment, unsure if he was being serious. “Is that a nickname or...?”

Butters seemed to hesitate, not suggesting offense, but something distinctly unsure. “Uh no, that’s my first name,” he finally said, and it seemed like there was more to his tone, but Stan never liked to pry.

“So, did you want to trade numbers?” Stan asked, quickly changing the subject. “Might make this meeting up thing a bit easier.”

And the blond smiled and swiftly nodded, relieved.

***

“I got his name,” Stan said to Craig, the next day at work.

“That’s great,” Craig said, continuing to type on his computer.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“No.”

“Dude, I’m making progress and it’s like you’re still not fucking happy.”

Craig didn’t want to even dignify that with a response, so he just flipped him off. When even that apparently couldn’t get Stan to go back to his own damn desk, Craig turned and gave him a look.

“Where does he live?”

“...What?”

And call him a genius, but that was the exact response Craig had been expecting. He really needed a damn pay raise already.

“Fine,” Craig said opening up the directory on the computer. “Tell me his name and I can literally tell you in three seconds where he lives.”

“I uh, only know his first name.”

Craig gave him another long look. “Seriously?”

Stan shrugged, “Hey, at least it’s a start.”

***

They were walking around the park, pink and lavender flower petals dusting across the pavement in response to the blooming spring. Butters had picked up several dandelions and as they walked the seeds continued to fly from his grasp fall to the ground around them.

“So…are you seeing anyone?” Stan asked as casually as he could manage.

From beside him, Butters froze.

“Shit, unless that’s too personal, I didn’t mean to-”

“Aw gee, no it’s fine Stan!” Butters said, shaking his head and starting to walk again. “Sorry, just caught me a bit off guard, is all. I just...got out of a relationship recently.”

“Oh…Sorry dude.”

Like the clouds covering the sun, Stan had never seen Butters look so closed off. He instantly regretted saying anything, this was exactly why he always tried to stay out of people’s business. “It was never nothin’ serious.” Butters quietly explained, in the sudden silence. “Thought it might have been for a while,” he gave a small sad little shrug, “turned out I was wrong.”

“She must have been a complete moron.”

“ _He_ ,” Butters quickly corrected, and Stan kind of hated the relief he felt at the confirmation, “And gee, he’s real smart actually. I just don’t think I was enough for him or somethin’.”

Stan suddenly had to stop, not believing what he was hearing. Grabbing Butters’ sleeve, he tugged him around and looked him straight in the eye.

“Butters,” he said, his voice nearly trembling with emotion, “anyone who thinks you aren’t good enough for them, could never in a million years be good enough for you.”

For a moment Butters was silent, looking away from Stan’s unyielding gaze and inspecting the now seedless stems gripped within his hands. But then slowly he looked up, and it was like the sun peaking over the horizon.

“Gee Stan. I think that might’ve been the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

And Stan might have seen a lot of crime in his day, but somehow that was by far the most criminal thing he had ever heard.

***

“Heya Stan!” Butters called, walking up to him, holding his hands curiously behind his back.

“Hey Butters,” He said before a bouquet of bright multicolored flowers was suddenly brought from behind him and held in the space between them. Stan looked at the flowers, an arrangement of reds, pinks, yellows, and purples, and up to Butters’ shining blue eyes. “What’s this for?”

“For being so nice to me, of course.”

There were certain things that Stan believed to be unfair in the world. But, knowing that somehow this man in front of him had thought to give him actual flowers in return for a few choice words that should have been obvious to anyone, really fucking hurt.

“Butters...you didn’t have to get me anything for that.”

“Well, sure I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”

“Then, thank you,” Stan said, taking the flowers into his own hands. Looking down at them, and stricken by raw beauty and emotion, Stan summoned every ounce of confidence he could manage. “You know,” he said, slowly, “normally flowers mean something a bit more than friendship.”

Butters looked over at him. “Is that what you want it to mean?”

“I uh…” Stan really hadn’t expected him to deflect that so easily.

“Cause’ I think I’d be okay with that,” Butters continued with a smile, not missing a beat. “If ya wanted it to mean somethin’, that is.”

“I…” Stan swallowed, “Okay.”

And then, surrounded by the green and the grass, and the blue of the sky, and with multicolored flowers clutched within his hands, Butters leaned up and kissed him.

***

It was another beautiful evening, the moon just peeking out from between warm rays of orange and pink. Stan and Butters were walking around the park, hand in hand.

“Hey, so I’m real sorry Stan,” Butters said as if just remembering something, “but I can’t be seein’ ya tomorrow. I’ve got some stuff I gotta do in the evenin’.”

Stan hated how quickly the disappointment set in. Seeing Butters was always the highlight of his day.

“Well, what time? I get off from work around five, so I can meet you at the coffee shop down the street or something as soon as I get off.”

Butters’ blue eyes were bright like the overhead sky. “Hmm, well I think that should be alright.”

***

True to his word, still in his uniform, Stan went to the coffee shop straight from work. Butters was already there sitting at one of the tables alone, and Stan smiled at the way he looked in the lighting.

He was about to greet him when Butters seemed to have spotted him and practically fell out of his chair he scrambled up so fast. Stan, not really sure what he had just witnessed, chose to ignore it.

Butters, chose not to.

“You’re with the police?” he said, eyeing Stan warily. It was not a look he had ever wanted to see on the blond, especially directed at him.

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

“Oh golly,” Butters said, looking half panicked, as he grabbed his things. “I um… I’m _real_ sorry, Stan. But I don’t think we can be seein’ each other anymore.”

“What? Butters, what are you talking about?”

“This just… can’t work out, I’m sorry but I really gotta go.”

It happened so suddenly, Stan didn’t even have time to comprehend what the hell he should do. So, he just watched. Watched as the brief spark of color he had found in the world vanished in a second. Leaving the world even darker than it had been before.

He felt sick.

Mind reeling, Stan flopped down into one of the chairs at the table Butters had been occupying and stared incomprehensively at the table.

Eventually, someone sat in the seat across from him. Stan looked up to see a blond man with blue eyes, but while Butters’ eyes were always bright and innocent, this guy’s held something that could be considered mischievous. He was wearing the barista uniform and the name on his nametag read, _Kenny_. When he caught Stan’s eye, he smiled and winked.

“Bad day?”

“You could say that.”

He hummed and nodded, before slightly lowering his voice. “Say, that blond that ran out, you knew him right?” When Stan nodded he continued, “He didn’t happen to mention anything, I don’t know, _questionable_ , did he?”

“...What?”

Kenny laughed it off, leaning back in his chair in a picture of perfect nonchalance. “It’s not important, just thought he looked familiar is all. He a boyfriend?”

“Was, I guess.”

“Hm, tough luck my dude. But don’t worry, you never know who you might meet next.” He leaned across the table as if about to tell a secret. “For instance, I saw a redhead in here the other day,” he whistled, an awestruck look crossing his expression. “World hasn’t quite been the same since.”

Stan nodded, knowing the feeling.

***

Needing to vent, Stan left the coffee shop with only one destination in mind.

He knocked on the familiar apartment door knowing that his best friend would be home because was always home at this time. And, for as long as Stan had known him, he had never been one to break a pattern.

“Kyle,” he said dejectedly when he answered the door as he knew he would. “Can I come in?”

Kyle, seemingly not at all surprised to see Stan, wordlessly opened the door and let him in.

***

“I just don’t understand why he left like that,” Stan bemoaned the next day at work. “Was it something I said? God Craig, do you think he found out about that squirrel I shot during training? It was an accident! I always knew it would come back to bite me.”

Craig really hated his job sometimes.

“Stan, would you please shut up and read the fucking report.”

Stan gave a long sigh, but thankfully started looking over the details of the latest report on the smuggling ring. Then, a few moments later, he froze.

“Aw, fuck.”

Craig would have asked, but he really didn’t give a shit.

***

He should have given a shit.

“Hey-” Tweek looked up from where he was typing something up on his laptop, as Craig entered their apartment, only to practically leap out of his seat in surprise. “Oh, Jesus! Craig, who the hell is that?”

Craig stood there, looking exhausted. “I’m sorry Tweek, I couldn’t get rid of him.”

Stan gave a small wave from where he was standing dejectedly behind him. He had followed Craig home, saying something about going to his friend Kyle’s house, who apparently lived next door, only to find that he wasn’t home. Craig hardly knew his neighbor, but what he did know was that the asshole was going to owe him, big time.

Craig wandered over, giving Tweek a kiss on the cheek before laying across the couch, resting his legs across his fiance’s lap. Stan watched the whole exchange and their easy intimacy with a heavy heart.

“So you guys, you’re like really in love, right?” He said wistfully, sitting down in the armchair across from them. “Must be nice.”

“Yeah?” Tweek said, eyeing him warily, “I guess?”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Just ignore him, Tweek. He’s just mad because this asshole he’s only been dating for a fucking week left him.”

“Oh, well sorry, man,” Tweek said, actually looking genuinely apologetic. “Were you two close before?”

Craig snorted. “He didn’t even know his last name.”

“Wait,” Tweek said, expression quickly shifting to bewilderment, “you dated this guy without even knowing anything about him?”

Stan sighed. “Yeah…”

“What are you stupid?!” Tweek blurted, utterly appalled. “He could have been a murderer! Or an escaped convict!”

Stan sniffled, “Smuggler, actually.”

Tweek’s eyes grew wide.

Craig sat up from where he had been lying down.

They both stared at him.

Stan wordlessly got up and handed over the report he had stuffed in this coat pocket. Craig already knew what it would say, so he handed it to Tweek.

Two days ago a guy had sent in a message to the police station saying he was part of the smuggling ring and disclosing their main location of operations. When the police traced the call, they had traced it back to a cell phone of a one and only Leopold Butters Stotch.

A name that, as Craig finally deduced, Stan had found extremely familiar.

“Hey,” Stan said, breaking the shocked silence, “do you guys have any alcohol?”

***

“Craig, how are we supposed to get him to leave?”

They were both sitting on the couch, talking in hushed voices as Stan quietly slept on the floor, hugging a bottle of vodka as if it were a favorite blanket.

“Hell if I know, at least you get a break. With my luck, he’ll probably just follow me back to work tomorrow.”

Tweek looked down at the report, still held in his hand. “Can’t we just find this guy and have them talk it out or something?”

“It's not that easy Tweek. We both know that the guy did have a motive to switch sides, but the rest of the force doesn’t see it that way. They’re convinced it’s a trap, and it’ll be days before they finally search the radius enough to warrant sending in a team.”

They simultaneously looked at Stan and then at each other in horror.

“I could take off work for a few days,” Craig suggested, “and we could bolt the doors shut?”

Tweek looked back down at the report and suddenly brightened. “Hold that thought, I think I have an idea.” When he looked up he had that wild look in his eye that Craig simultaneously loved and was fucking terrified of.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

***

Stan was woken up by a phone call in the middle of the night. He was still on Craig’s floor, apparently. Funny, he didn’t remember even falling asleep.

He pulled out his cell and answered it, only to be met with a familiar monotone voice.

“We just busted the smuggling ring,” Craig said, straight to the point as always, “we need you down at the station. And you better hurry up, asshole.”

And with that, he hung up.

Stan groaned and got up. Looking down at the bottle of vodka, he reached down and took a swig before walking out the door.

***

Stan wasn’t at the station for more than five minutes before he was spotted and manhandled by a very tired and disgruntled Craig.

“Craig, what the hell?”

“Just talk to the asshole,” Craig said pulling him down the hallway, “and please don’t fuck this up.”

“Seriously, what the-”

Craig shoved him into one of the interrogation rooms and immediately slammed the door shut behind him.

Stan cursed to himself, rubbing his arm. Of course, the minute he turned to face the room he was met with was a familiar pair of blue eyes and a sheepish smile.

“Heya, Stan.”

“Butters,” Stan said, somewhat unwilling to believe his eyes. Not really trusting his feet, he wandered over and sat in the chair on the other side of the table. A million unspoken words weighed down the air between them, and Stan had no idea where to start. “Did they hurt you?” He settled on asking.

“Huh?” Butters looked up, clearly not expecting that to be the first words out of his mouth. “No, in fact everyone’s been real nice to me. Think that was your friend’s doing. Before you got here he was askin’ me a whole bunch of questions, but was real nice about it,” he showed his arms, “took off my cuffs and everything.”

“Craig?”

He shrugged with a small little smile before it fell a moment later. Stan hated the sight. “I’m real sorry I lied to you, Stan. It’s just Eric always said I couldn’t tell nobody.”

“Eric?”

Stan really was the paragon of deep conversation.

Butters nodded. “Eric Cartman. He was the one who came up with the idea to start smugglin’. At first I thought we was just gonna be helpin’ some poor folks get some money, but then things kept gettin’ worse and I didn’t know how to stop it.”

From where he sat from across the table, Butters looked incredibly small. He wouldn’t stop fiddling with his hands, and he looked completely lost within the blank grey walls and dim fluorescent lighting. He didn’t belong here.

Stan sighed.

“Why didn’t you just leave?”

For a minute, Stan wasn’t sure if he was going to answer. But eventually, he did, his voice unbearably small, “I didn’t know where else to go…”

“I would have helped you,” Stan said softly.

A shade of his former smile appeared and Butters shook his head, “I hardly knew a thing about you.”

“I know,” Stan said, suddenly very tired, “and that was my fault. I’m not...the best at getting to know people.”

“Me neither,” Butters said with a small laugh, and Stan smiled at the sound.

“Wanna start over?”

Butters instantly nodded and held out a hand, finally breaking out in the smile that Stan loved so much. “Heya, I’m Leopold Butters Stotch, former member of a smuggling ring.”

Stan took it. “Stanley Marsh, police officer.”

“It’s nice to meetcha, Stan.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

And they both smiled.

***

Meanwhile, Craig was telling the story to the chief, and he was on a fucking roll. Tweek had been forced to do some shady shit in the middle of the night, and he was not letting his effort go to waste.

“So as you can see,” he finished, “Leopold Stotch is a clear victim and I’ve already received his testimony so there’s no other reason to keep him.”

Stan had absolutely no idea what he would be walking into when he walked out of the interrogation room with Butters by his side; but, whatever he had been expecting, this certainly hadn’t been it. He blinked in astonishment.

The chief was looking at Craig with clear surprise. It was likely he hadn’t heard Craig talk that much in his entire time of working there. “And you’re sure of this, Tucker?”

“Positive.”

The chief looked around the room and sighed. “Alright, you’ve never been this...passionate before, so you’ve convinced me.” He turned to Butters, “Stotch you’re free to go.”

There was a guy who had been watching the entire exchange from where he sat handcuffed between two guards, and he straightened when he finally noticed the blond.

“Butters! Finally, someone who has some fucking sense in this damn place. You’ll talk some sense into these assholes, won’t you?”

By the way that the blond looked at him with clear hesitation, it was clear that the man was none other than Eric Cartman, leader of the smuggling ring. One of the cops standing beside Eric told him to shut his mouth, but he didn’t pay him any mind, wide eyes unmoving from the silent blond in front of him.

“...Butters?”

“I…” Butters looked between Stan and Eric, seeming to fight a silent battle within himself. Stan didn’t dare interrupt, this was his choice.

“You can’t be serious,” Eric said. “After everything I did for you? Gave you a place to live, and a part in my own business, and now you’re just going to let them lock me up? I thought we were friends. Remember?”

Butters hands clenched into fists at his sides and he finally looked up to meet Eric’s gaze.

“I’m sorry Eric, I’m real sorry, but I’m tired of lying for you all the time. I lie and I lie and it don’t ever change anything, just makes things worse. And I’m real sick of it. I’m not gonna let myself be used by you anymore.”

In light of his words, something died in Eric’s expression, and he suddenly looked entirely defeated. Desperate. “Butters, _please_.”

But Butters didn’t answer. Just shook his head and walked away.

***

Stan followed him out into the lobby. It was dark and devoid of life, being as late as it was, and shadows from the sparse lighting formed shadows on Butters’ pale face,

“Butters? Are you okay?”

Stan heard a small sniffle, and his heart broke a little. He took a step forward, and when Butters finally looked up at him he noticed tears running down his cheeks.

“He was my best friend…” he choked out quietly.

Taking a few steps closer, Stan gently grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face him. “You deserve someone so much better than him, you know that don’t you? Someone who’d be at your side no matter what, and would never even think of putting you down like he did.”

For a moment Butters just stared at him, before slowly a smile lit up his face. “Someone like you?”

“Dude,” Stan said instinctively, before shaking himself out if it. “I mean, _yeah_. Yeah, if you want.”

“Yeah,” Butters smiled and closed the space between them, “I really do.”

***

The next morning, Tweek and Craig were both sprawled out on the couch, basking in their victory and blessedly empty apartment.

“How’d you know how to contact Mysterion anyway?” Craig asked eventually.

Tweek gave a small shrug, continuing to play thoughtlessly with Craig’s hand. “He’s a co-worker at the coffee shop.”

“And so, he just told you he was a vigilante?”

“Yeah, after I locked him in the storage closet.”

Craig was waiting for the laugh, but his fiance seemed completely serious. “What the hell, Tweek?”

“You don’t understand, Craig!” Tweek said, releasing the hold on his hand and straightening up, looking half manic. “I kept seeing him _everywhere_ , at work, the grocery store, delivering our _mail_. I thought I was goin’ crazy, man. So, I cornered him, and turns out he has six jobs and a night career as a vigilante.”

“What the hell,” Craig repeated, strangely impressed.

Tweek shrugged, settling back into the couch. “Said he liked to keep busy.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, well at least he helped to finally get Stan out of our house.”

Craig let himself fall back so that he was laying across the sofa, “I’m _so_ happy it’s over.”

“Me too,” Tweek laughed, moving to lay on top of him. With a small smile, he leaned in, only to be stopped by a knock on the door. They both turned their heads to glare at it.

“Do you think-” said Tweek.

“No, no fucking way,” said Craig.

It was several unignorable knocks on the door later, and several colorful words from Craig before he was unchaining their door and throwing it open.

He greeted by the sight of Clyde, soaking wet and crying.

“Can I come in…” He sniffled.

For a moment, not quite believing his luck, Craig could only stare at him.

“Goddammit.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hourly Hunting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124750) by [Townycod13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13)




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